The Three Rules to a Not So Perfect Crime
by HopelessRomanticxox
Summary: Irene Adler has three rules to a perfect crime. She doesn't always factor in the hidden fourth rule though - enter Sherlock Holmes. Rated T for subtle messages and just as a precaution


**HAPPY NEW YEAR! Just to let you know this is my first Sherlock Holmes fanfic so I'm fully prepared for it to not be fantastic etc! All mistakes are my own and I don't own Sherlock Holmes nor Irene Adler.**

* * *

How do you go by unnoticed in a world with people who notice everything?

Pace yourself, you never want to rush these things, take it one step at a time. Follow these three rules.

1. Dress up to the nines.

2. Walk in naturally, make small talk, smile and wave and join in with the festivities.

3. Find what you're looking for and act natural, engage in conversation about it, nothing too obvious. Maybe, spot it as you walk past, compliment it, remark on its size or its beauty. Then when people have moved on, swipe it.

These three rules have helped me to become one of the most successful thieves in the entire world, in history. But there is a flaw to everyone's plans, no matter how perfectly planned, no matter how many rules.

It could be something small, like a piece of fabric, or a fingerprint. It could be something a bit bigger, like someone spotting you, or you making yourself look guilty.

Or it could be something a lot bigger…not necessarily something, more like, someone. Someone who could be anywhere in the entire world, anywhere but still right there when you least expect it, no matter what you do to prevent it.

* * *

It was the evening of Lord Boworth's annual ball. He is a charitable man, throws events of all styles encouraging people to donate. Last year it was a formal event for children in workhouses. This year it's a masquerade ball inviting patrons to donate money for those living on the streets.

Oh, and have I failed to mention…he's horrendously rich.

_Step 1 – dress to the nines_

Pressing her skirts in the mirror she admired her reflection. Her hair was pinned lightly, nothing to elegant. Her jewellery glittered from all angles, silvers, gold's and emeralds. Every image the heiress.

The dress was black to match her mask, lightly adorned with sparkle and shine. Time to go.

Irene Adler couldn't help but almost skip down the steps to her awaiting coach. Glancing both ways as she entered, she was ready for anything the evening could throw at her.

"Boworth manor Miss Adler?" her driver asked after complimenting her appearance.

"Not straight away. Take me to the corner of Baker street, but I want to see, but not be seen. Do you understand?"

"Of course Miss Adler."

It was a remarkably short journey between Irene's apartment and Baker street. But it was an important journey that needed to be made if this evening was to go exactly according to plan. She watched as a coach approached and the very man in her mind climbed in.

"Thank you Sherlock. Driver…to Boworth manor." Irene settled back into the seat as she watched Sherlock's carriage disappear in the opposite direction, out of sight.

Lord Boworth's manor was definitely a visual of his incredible wealth. Carriages of all shapes and sizes parked in the driveway and all manner of rich patrons exited. Irene could feel the excitement of the evenings activities and she couldn't help but give a mischievous smile at the amount of expensive jewels she could see.

Handing her coat to the clerk she walked through to the main room where hundreds of people were gathered in an assortment of dresses, suits and all in masks.

_Step 2 - Walk in naturally, make small talk, smile and wave and join in with the festivities._

"Miss Adler, lovely to see you again." She'd lifted her mask for a couple of seconds to edit her makeup in a mirror on passing and almost instantly she was recognised.

"Lord Boworth sir, thank you for having me. What a splendid setup you have this year, quite remarkable."

"Why thank you and may I say you look stunning this evening. Can I ask, have you donated?"

"Thank you. And of course Lord Boworth it was the first thing on my list. You'll find a substantial donation in your entry box.

"I am grateful Miss Adler. Well I must mingle, please enjoy yourself." She nodded graciously, replaced her mask and headed into the ballroom where one of many dances were already underway.

Finding the bar she took a glass of champagne and began to walk around, sipping at the drink and making small talk with various others.

Almost an hour in and Irene had made enough chat to ensure that people knew her 'reasons' for being there. It wasn't difficult as she walked around with the mask on, enjoying a couple of dances with random strangers and then proceeding to one of the corridors, making the excuse of needing the ladies room.

The hallway was pleasantly cooler than the warmth of the ballroom and a lot quieter also. In keeping with her story Irene first made a stop to the ladies room to powder her nose and remind herself exactly what the plan was. Returning to the hallway she walked down, glancing this way and that at the various pieces on display. An elderly couple were stood fairly near to Irene's trophy piece of the evening.

_Step 3 - Find what you're looking for and act natural, engage in conversation about it, nothing too obvious. Maybe, spot it as you walk past, compliment it, remark on its size or its beauty. Then when people have moved on, swipe it._

"Oh my, well you can hardly walk past without such a beautiful piece catching your eye now can you?!" Irene exclaimed in admirable fashion. The elderly couple looked towards her and smiled.

"It's stunning isn't it? Lord Boworth told me himself that he barely notices the piece, apparently it's one of many. Probably worth thousands, everything in this house appears to be." Irene responded in equal and after a few minutes back and forth the couple moved on.

They were wrong of course. This piece wasn't one of many. It was in fact one of a kind worth millions. One that naturally Irene Adler just had to have. No question about it.

Walking away with a small smile on her face Irene couldn't help but feel proud of herself. She always did when it came to big expenditures. Whether it be large and worth thousands or small and worth millions.

"May I have this dance?" The voice was unfamiliar and the man also but Irene was willing to comply – keeping up appearances. She allowed herself to be twirled and led and idly responded to the man she was dancing with. But something else had caught her eye, or rather someone.

"Impossible."

"I'm sorry?" The man asked, clearly surprised at being cut off mid-sentence.

"Nothing, my apologies do continue. You're wife in Germany you were saying?" Irene had a habit of listening but not really listening and in circumstances like this one it came in handy. After scanning the crowd again Irene took her earlier spotting as nothing but expectation and dismissed it as she willingly handed herself over to another man, on with the next dance.

* * *

It was a few hours and a couple more dances later when something interesting happened. As Irene chatted to a Frenchman about how he was planning to propose in a week on his partners birthday and how he was looking forward to the birth of his first niece or nephew she caught the attention of a man in a smart suit and a delicately made mask. Making her excuses she walked towards the bar, perfectly aware that she was being watched and she knew exactly what was going on. But she couldn't show any signs that she knew what was happening. So while her insides reacted, her heart-beating a little faster than maybe entirely necessary and her breathing changing in pace her face remained calm and happy, she spoke with a natural tone and pace and to everyone around she was as alright as she had been all evening and that was exactly how she intended it to remain.

"May I have this next dance?" The man in question was now stood a little to her right, the direction she would normally turn. To someone unfamiliar she would take this as mere coincidence, nothing more to be thought about but no. This was deliberate.

"Of course." She set her drink down on the table and taking his outstretched hand allowed herself to be led back onto the dance floor. His hand was a little damp, recently washed and not completely dried. There were specks of water droplets on his collar and the tips of his hair also, it was raining outside. You see, Sherlock Holmes was not the only one who could make simple deductions from the tiniest of evidence.

They settled into a natural movement, neither of them wanting to be the first to speak but both with something on their minds. Most likely the very same thing. Irene looked up into the eyes she knew so well. There was no denying it the dark green flecks in his eyes were most definitely his. Those eyes had meant so very many different things to Irene. They were the eyes of her enemy and yet also her confidante, sometimes she'd even say her friend. They were so familiar and yet so distant and meant so very much as well as so very little. Only Sherlock holmes could produce so many different emotions and thoughts in just one person – yet another of his hidden talents that she assumed he did not know about. Or he did and used successfully to his advantage.

"Well this has been lovely, but I'm afraid I must be going now." They had eventually succumbed to the expected small talk but neither of them had brought up the elephant in the room. Probably for the best.

"So soon. Can I not talk you into one more dance." That look in his eyes.

"Sir I hate to be rude but you haven't been doing much talking for the past few minutes I can hardly see how one more dance would change that." Challenge.

"Very well. Then allow me to at least get your coat." She accepted this offer and followed him to the coat rack.

Irene struggled to keep the smile off her face as he made an effort to get her coat. He had seen her coat many times and in fact he was taking his time to check the pockets. He knew perfectly well that Irene Adler was now in possession of a million pound trinket but what he didn't know, was where she was keeping it.

"My coat sir? It has I believe, been thoroughly checked over?" She smirked. It was just her and Sherlock in the coat room and she couldn't help but express a little humour.

"For anything potentially dangerous of course."

"Of course."

"Can I get you a coach?"

"Why not." Irene led the way this time but Sherlock was never far behind. When a coach had been called Sherlock stood and watched Irene get in.

"I could come with you, ensure you get home safely?"

"Sir and how do you propose to do that? We have never met, I hardly no your name. For all I know you could be trying to get me alone for your own thrills. No thank you. I shall find my own way home. Thank you for your company this evening, good evening." With that she smiled seductively and signalled for the driver to head on. Catching Sherlock's eye as she rounded the corner she couldn't help but blow him a kiss and another smile as she disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

Arriving back at the apartment Irene smiled. He was good, she'd give him that as she caught the slightest of scratches on her door lock. Since the first time he'd broken into her apartment the little markings were something she'd begun to notice on a regular basis. So often in fact that it had become second nature for her to check the door lock before entering. Him breaking in was now a common occurrence.

"Why Sherlock Holmes what an unexpected pleasure. I'd heard you were up at Scotland Yard this evening?" She greeted as she strolled into the apartment, seeing him sat on the sofa with a glass of wine in his hand and another one set on the kitchen table. At least he was considerate.

"As I heard you were at Lord Boworth's masquerade ball. Unfortunately the case I was due to receive at Scotland yard had been solved earlier today so I had no choice but to mope about my own flat. That was when I remembered, my dear friend Irene is not in this evening I shall take up residence at her apartment." He grinned cheekily and poured himself another glass of wine, handing her the other.

"Did you now? Well I'll join you for a glass but first I need to wash, the ballroom was rather warm this evening and my final dance partner had remarkably sweaty hands." She returned his grin.

"I'm sure your dance partner would never have sweaty hands. A true gentleman, ensures it."

"Oh this man wasn't a gentleman. I mean yes he walked me to the coach but when collecting my coat he fondled it far too much for my liking." She responded as she slipped out of the dress in the bathroom and wrapped herself in a robe. She then returned to the main room and laid the dress out on the large queen sized bed, easy access.

"He was probably just checking for anything dangerous."

"Dangerous? At a charity ball? Please, if anyone was to be in danger then surely Lord Boworth? It was his event after all." Irene lowered herself into the bath water, enjoying this repertoire she had going.

"Then maybe he knew of your reputation and was checking simply that nothing was leaving the premises that shouldn't be. Maybe he was looking out for Lord Boworth and his expenses."

"What do you take me for Mr Holmes? A common thief."

"Of course not. That's why you were at Lord Boworth's."

The next few minutes passed by in silence and for a reason. Irene was well aware that Sherlock was checking the dress over for a certain pendant but she was certain he would not find it.

"It's not there Sherlock." She called out eventually and a moment later he appeared at the door. Gentleman he was he didn't look anywhere compromising, though Irene had indulged in so many bubbles he wouldn't have been able to even if he did try.

"I know you took lord Boworth's pendant Irene."

"Impress me. Talk me through it." Closing her eyes and relaxing into the bath water Sherlock sank to the floor and began to talk.

"I know every single detective's handwriting and the note inviting me over was not any of theirs. I went anyway, allowing myself to believe that it potentially could have been a new detective. However I was right the first time and when I left I remembered the next place I should head. Lord Boworth. I have a lot of people who would do anything to ensure I can't stop them pulling off the perfect crime but at an estate as wealthy as his I knew it could only have been one person…that's you my dear,' Irene saluted in recognition, 'and surprise surprise when I entered the ballroom there you were dancing with a stranger. You didn't know him, I could tell from both your body language and the fact that while it appeared you were engaging in conversation with the man your eyes scanned the entire room, everywhere but his eyes I noticed. That's when I checked the hallway. I knew where the necklace would be of course, right by the ladies room – perfect excuse for yourself, and on display for everyone to see. When I returned to the room and you caught my eye I noticed the change in the rise and fall of your chest, indicating your breathing pace and heart rate had changed. If they had slowly you would have needed air and to sit down so it was clear they quickened. This could be because of contact with someone you had feelings for but the man you were dancing with you again appeared to have no connection too. Therefore you were nervous, only momentarily but that was all I needed."

"You truly are remarkable Mr Holmes aren't you. Now I'm getting out. Pour another glass."

When Irene returned to the room she had dressed for bed in an expensive looking silk nightgown-only the best. Sherlock was stood with his back to her, watching the world pass by out the large French style window. He turned on her approach and handed her the glass of wine she had left earlier.

"Topped up." He informed her. She raised her glass in a silent toast and drank.

"Are you going to tell me where the necklace is then? Or am I going to have to strip this room down bit by bit in order to find it?"  
"You'd like that wouldn't you Sherlock. To strip it down." Another seductive smile, only this time he returned it.

"I think I'll choose not to respond to that." He smirked.

"That's a pity." Setting down her glass Irene walked away from the window and to her dressing table, tinkling a couple of other necklaces.

"Why do you always attract trouble Miss Adler?" Sherlock remained behind, leaning against the sofa and watching her with slight and never mentioned admiration.

"I think I could ask you the same question Mr Holmes."

They were both using softer tones that their earlier snappy witticism.

"I never attract trouble, trouble attracts me." He replied.

"Well then maybe that's my reason too. I attract trouble, so that in turn, trouble will attract you." She took out her earrings and set them on the table before making eye contact with Sherlock through the reflection of her mirror.

"Did you never think the right side of the law might be the better side?"

"Darling that's like me asking whether you ever considered the wrong side being better. We're both on different sides that's never going to change but I've noticed you do tend to take action on the wrong side more often that I do the right side."

"Well how about this. The right side of the law right now would be for you to hand over the pendant and say no more about it."

"The right side of the law would be you dragging me down to that police station and forcing me into revealing it's location. But yet, here you are, making no effort to drag me anywhere."

Through joint actions, between each part of conversation Sherlock and Irene had taken steps closer to one another and now they were practically together. Their breaths mingled and as Sherlock brushed a stray lock of brunette hair behind irene's ear she couldn't help but close her eyes.

"You're close Holmes. So very, very close." She whispered before closing the gap between them, pulling on his lapels and pressing her lips to his. It was a rash move but somewhat unsurprisingly Sherlock didn't pull away, rather, he allowed her fingers to wove their way into her hair as his hand pressed against her waist. When they pulled back to breathe instead of commenting Sherlock gave them time to catch their breath back before closing the gap between them again. Together they led their way to the bed and the dress that had previously laid there was soon forgotten about.

* * *

Sherlock kissed her forehead as he let her sleep. As she did he had caught a glimpse of something metallic in her hair. The pendant she had stolen in the evening had been wound into her hair.

"Clever my dear but you forget, nobody is too clever for Sherlock Holmes."

* * *

**So what did you all think? Happy 2013 :D**


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